Winnie Griggs - Texas Cinderella

“Yes, ma’am,” she said meekly. “And I’ll try not to tarry today. I have extra baking to do tonight.”

Cheered by the thought of her new enterprise, Cassie Lynn gave a final wave and headed for the front door.

But as soon as she stepped out on the porch and closed the door behind her, she paused. There was someone striding up the walk. That was odd—Mrs. Flanagan rarely received callers.

Cassie Lynn’s eyes widened in recognition. She’d know that slight limp and stiff-backed posture anywhere. It was her father. What was he doing here?

Although she’d seen him from time to time since she’d moved to town last December, it was the first time he’d deliberately sought her out. Fearing something was wrong, she quickly descended the porch steps, meeting her father halfway down the front walk.

“Hello, Pa.” She was breathless and tried to calm herself. “Is something the matter? Did something happen to one of the boys?” She had four brothers, three of them younger than her, and all still living with her father out on the remote farm.

He frowned disapprovingly. “Goodness, girl, there’s no need to get all in a fret. Your brothers are just fine.”

She let out a relieved breath, then gave her father a smile. Perhaps he’d come especially to check on her, after all. She set her market basket down and gave him a quick hug. “You’re looking well,” she said as she stepped back.

He hooked a thumb under his suspenders. “Comes from living a simple life filled with honest labor.”

“Yes, sir.” He’d always been a no-nonsense, unsentimental sort of man. Trying to ignore the little pinch of yearning for a softer greeting, she offered him a tentative smile. “I have some news.”

His brow went up at that and he gave her a keen glance. “And what might that be?”

To her surprise he seemed truly interested. Buoyed by that, she rushed to explain. “I’m going to start a bakery business. Mrs. Fulton over at the restaurant and Mrs. Dawson over at the sweet shop are both going to try my wares. And Mrs. Flanagan here is talking about partnering with me.” It was a modest start, but if things worked out, by the time Mrs. Flanagan no longer needed her help, Cassie Lynn might actually be able to make a go of this bakery idea. And then she would truly have established herself as part of the town, something she’d been striving for since she’d escaped her father’s farm nine months ago.

Her father was no longer smiling, though, and she found herself almost apologizing. “I know it’s not a lot, but in time it could grow to something big enough for me to make a good living from.”

Her voice trailed off as she saw the disappointment deepen on his face.

“I thought you might be wanting to tell me you’d found yourself a beau.” His tone made it clear she’d failed in some significant way. “I figured that was why you left home in the first place. After things didn’t work out with Hank Chandler, I assumed you were setting your sights on some other bachelor.”

When Verne, Cassie Lynn’s oldest brother, had married and brought his bride home to take over as lady of the house, Cassie Lynn had made her escape from the isolation and drudgery of her father’s farm and moved to town. At the time, Hank Chandler had been looking for a wife to help him raise the two children in his charge. For a while it had looked like she might just be that woman, but then she realized Mr. Chandler had fallen in love with the schoolteacher, and Cassie Lynn had pulled herself out of the running.

Not that she had really minded. Finding a husband had never been her reason for leaving the farm.

“I didn’t move to town to find a husband, Pa.” She struggled to keep her tone matter-of-fact. “I moved here to be around other people and to make a new life for myself.”

Her father dismissed her statement with an impatient wave of his hand. “And just what kind of life can a girl make for herself without a husband and young’uns?”

Cassie Lynn’s chest tightened as she realized that trying to explain her dreams to him was useless, that he would never understand. So instead of responding to his statement, she changed the subject. “Was there something you came here to see me about?”

Her father nodded. “Verne bought himself some land of his own to farm, and he and Dinah are planning to build a house on it and move out.”

Cassie Lynn smiled, genuinely pleased for her older brother. “Verne always loved working the land. He’ll do well.”

“That he will. But once he and his wife move away, that leaves me and your other brothers on our own.”

Her stomach clenched. She knew what was coming next, and she frantically searched her mind for a way to stave it off.

But her father pressed on. “I want you to come back home and take your place as lady of the house. Since it doesn’t look like you’re going to have a home and family of your own to care for anytime soon, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

No! She’d already escaped that life. She couldn’t return to that lonely drudgery. “I’ve made a commitment to take care of Mrs. Flanagan,” she protested, “and I can’t go back on my word. Surely you wouldn’t expect me to.”

“No, I suppose not. A Vickers’s word is never given lightly.” Her father rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How long does Doc Pratt say she’s gonna be stuck in that chair?”

“Probably another four or five weeks.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “Well then, that shouldn’t be a problem. Even if Verne is ready to move out sooner, I’m sure I can convince him to stay that long.”

Cassie Lynn steeled herself to take a stand. Her father couldn’t force her to return to the farm. “I didn’t say I would come home when I’m done here. I told you, I’m starting a bakery business.”

He frowned. “Of course you’ll come home. This town doesn’t need a baker—any housewife worth her salt can do her own baking. So there’s nothing here in town to hold you.” He eyed her sternly. “Me and your brothers work hard keeping that farm going—sunup to sundown most days. You don’t want us to have to cook our own meals and do all the housework, too, do you?”

“No, of course not. But—”

He gave a decisive nod. “Good. Then it’s agreed. I’ll expect you back when your work here is done.” And with a quick pat to her shoulder, her father departed, apparently assuming the subject was closed.

Cassie Lynn’s fists tightened at her sides as she watched him walk away. If her father had his way, she’d have only four or five weeks before her world drew in once more to the narrow confines of the isolated farm—the world she thought she’d escaped for good. She couldn’t let that happen.

How could her father expect her to meekly return home, as if she had no ambitions for her life? So what if she didn’t yet have a husband? She was only twenty-two! It wasn’t as if she was past marriageable age. Besides, what chance did she ever have of finding a man if she returned to the farm?

But how could she refuse her father when he was so determined? Especially when it was her fault that her mother was no longer around to fill that role.

Cassie Lynn picked up the basket and began to slowly walk down the sidewalk, trying to tamp down her panic and focus on finding a solution to this problem. She’d tried to reason with her father and she’d tried to stand against him, and neither tactic had been very effective. What did that leave?

The Good Lord commanded that children should honor their parents, and she certainly didn’t want to dishonor her father, but surely there was a way out of this without having to outright stand against him.

She wasn’t surprised that her father thought a woman’s only goal should be to look after the men in her life. It was how he’d treated her mother, after all. Cassie Lynn had never heard him, or her brothers, for that matter, utter a word of thanks for all her mother had done. And they’d certainly never extended her that courtesy, either, after her mother had passed.